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-- (Saturday, May 30, 1992; by the lake, close to mid-night) --

For the first time since its construction, Hogwarts Castle was completely emptied of all occupants. Not a single witch, wizard, or ghost was within her walls. They all were gathered together outside, part of a nighttime vigil for one Harry Potter. Harry stood along the black lake’s shoreline alone, staring up at the stars. Mere hours ago he had awoken in the Hospital Wing after an overnight stay due to mild to serve injuries. Injuries he had received battling Voldemort for the Sorcerer’s Stone, a battle which had nearly killed him, Hermione, Ron and Neville. Things for Harry had drastically changed in the last twenty-four hours. As he was waiting for the curse to complete its final stage, he heard soft padding on the ground heading towards him. His eyes sought out the source of the sound. Eyes that reflected the soul of a seventeen-year-old, war harden veteran…

-- (Shortly after mid-night; twenty-four hours prior) --

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville had spent the last hour fighting their way through obstacles set up by Dumbledore and the Professor’s. Fluffy had been easy to get past. When the four got to the third floor corridor, a harp was set to play magically. Causing Fluffy to stay sound asleep and quite harmless.

Once through the trapdoor, they landed on a deadly plant known as Devil’s Snare. Neville told them all to remain calm and they would be all right. Harry and Hermione listened and slipped through the plant to solid ground next to Neville. Ron panicked when he couldn’t see his friends anymore and started fighting the plant. Luckily, Neville remembered that Devil’s Snare hated fire. Using his fire elemental magic, Harry burned the plant to ash. Thus, saving Ron who made it clear he wasn’t too happy about being covered in ashes.

After that, there was a room filled with flying keys and they had to find the right one to open the door on the other side of the room. Being a seeker, this job was easily done by Harry.

Afterwards, they had to take on a giant chess set. That’s where they lost Ron. He sacrificed himself to allow Harry to take the King. Ron had been knocked unconscious and probally was given a concussion. They had to leave Ron behind and press on because he would have just slowed them down and time was not on their side tonight.

The four were now down to three.

They obviously had someone above looking out for them because the next room held an incapacitated troll. The trio didn’t even want to know what had happened to it or how.

The last room before the Stone held a potion’s set. Hermione figured out that it was basic logic. She went onto explain that most wizards didn’t possess one once of logic and therefore would be trapped in the room forever. Hermione guessed that one potion would allow them to go back and one would allow them to go forward. Harry and Neville shared the potion that would send them forward while Hermione took the one to go back, quite grudgingly. She gave both of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek before promising to go back and get Ron. Then she was to find a professor or a perfect and tell them about what was going on.

When she left, Harry turned to Neville.

“There’s still some of the potion let, mate. You could go back with Hermione,” said Harry.

“No way in hell, Harry,” replied Neville.

Harry nodded and drank half the potion. Instantly he felt a chill come over him. He gave the rest to Neville who drank it immediately.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” Harry said and together, wands drawn they went through the fire.

Harry had thought he had prepared himself for anyone or anything that may be beyond the fire. He could honestly say he never in a million years would have thought to have seen Quirrel there, standing in front of a large elegant mirror.

“You!” Harry exclaimed. “But…but…”

“Yes, Potter,” sneered Quirrel. “No one would ever suspect p-p-poor s-st-stuttering Professor Quirrel. Bet you thought you would find someone else down here. Snape, maybe? Hmm?”

“No, I didn’t think Snape would be down here…” Harry began while Neville mumbled ‘Speak for your self.’ “But… you… I can’t believe you made it down here. You’re a babbling idiot. How did yah do it?

Quirrel frowned the smirked, “I had a little help.”

Harry’s expression darkened. He moved into a fighting stance as he spat out the word like it was poison, “Voldemort.”

Quirrel's eyes widened in surprise, “How did you… never mind.”

Quirrel turned back to the mirror and began muttering to himself. Harry took this time to look at the mirror himself. What he saw shocked him to the core.

At first he saw himself, just older. Harry figured he was probally seventeen or so. But what really shocked him, and caused him to blush slightly, was the fact that he had his arms around a beautiful woman. She had long, gorgeous red hair and big chocolate brown eyes. He knew immediately who it was. It was Ginny.

Then the image disappeared. It was replaced by what appeared to be only his reflection, weaty and tired with robes torn to shreds. Only this image was smirking. His reflection reached into its pocket and pulled out a blood red stone and then placed it back into his pocket. At the same moment, Harry felt something weigh down in his own pocket. He instantly knew what it was.

“Nev,” Harry whispered as to not attract Quirrel’s attention. “I’ve got it. Let’s go.”

As they turned to leave, a bodiless voice shouted out, “Get the boy!”

“Run!” Harry yelled as they both barreled towards the exit.

Quirrel fired a spell which caused Neville to be bound in rope. He fell hard to his left side and cried out in pain. Quirrel snapped his fingers and a ring of fire appeared around the chamber.

“Let me speak to him,” said the voice.

“Master, you are not strong enough,” pleaded Quirrel.

“I have strength enough for this. Never doubt the power of LORD VOLDEMORT!” the voice roared.

Quirrel whimpered and began to slowly, almost cautiously peel off his turban. In the reflection in the mirror, Harry and Neville saw a second face protruding from the back of Quirrel’s skull.

“Harry Potter,” said the face who claimed to be Voldemort. “We meet again. See what I’ve become. See what I’ve been forced to do. Live off another. A mere parasite to the stronger. However, there is something that can help me. Something that can return my body to me. Something that lies in your pocket! You have great potential. I can see it. Join me! I can teach you things that that muggle loving fool, Dumbledore could never teach you. I could make all your dreams come true. I could even bring your parents back.”

“I’ll never join you!” Harry said, fiercely. “You’re nothing but a cowardly half-blood hell bent on world domination and the eradication of all muggles and muggleborn’s because your muggle father rejected you.”

“SILENCE!” roared Voldemort.

“Half-blood? Master what does he mean?” asked Quirrel.

“Nothing, my faithful servant. He is merely trying to deceive you. He has no respect for his superiors. I believe it is time we show him why purebloods should be feared and respected. It is time he understands what pain is all about.”

Quirrel pointed his wanted at Harry and smirked as Harry raised a shield.

“Crucio!” Quirrel shouted.

The curse rocketed towards Harry’s shield and shattered it. Harry didn’t even have time to dodge it.

Harry collapsed in pain. The pain was about equal to the strongest pain flash from the Black Phoenix Curse. His nerves felt like they were on fire. Quirrel held him under the Unforgivable Curse for three minutes before letting up.

“Have you changed your mind, boy?” asked Quirrel.

“Go to hell!” Harry spat.

“I’ve been there, quite lovely in fact. Didn’t feel like staying though.” said Voldemort, laughing evilly.

Quirrel sent a cutting hex at Harry, which grazed his cheek causing a small cut to form and begin bleeding. Harry grasped the side of his face and yelped in pain. Then Quirrel zapped Harry with the Cruciatus, again.

Neville watched helplessly as his friend was tortured mercilessly. Seeing his friend in pain brought forth memories buried long ago. The memory charm that had been unknowingly placed on him as an infant was cracked and bits of memories came flooding through. Still, he was powerless to do anything…

-- (Hall of Time, Timeheart) --

Seventeen-year-old Harry Potter watched his eleven, almost twelve, year-old self being tortured. He couldn’t believe that the little changes he had Elder make, had had such drastic effects. Most of the timeline was still intact so far, but it could skew with even the slightest change.

In the original timeline, Harry and Hermione hadn’t learned that they were brother and sister until close to the end of their sixth year and… well let’s just say that Dumbledore had to spend another summer fixing his office. It was then that Dumbledore told them, together, the unaltered version of the Prophecy. Seventeen year-old Harry planned to tell Hermione about the Prophecy, this time around, as soon as Volodemort reuturned.

He was hoping to prevent the whole Department of Mysteries fiasco all together. However, he could think about that later. Right now he had more important things to worry about.

“You have to send me back!” Harry said suddenly.

“What?” asked Elder.

“My eleven year old-self doesn’t have the mental capacity to fight off a torturing like this. He’s liable to become insane. Send me back!” Harry said.

“We can’t do that,” said Elder.

“I’m afraid, then, that all we’ve done has been in vain. I’ll just have to reverse all that’s been done. You did your best, Harry. Time is a fickle friend. It is incomprehensible,” sighed Glaux.

“No, send me back. Send my memories back. I can more effectively change the outcome of things if I’m in the middle of it. It’s like trying to write a good battle scene in a book. It can’t be done, but you can make it into one kick ass movie,” Harry explained.

Elder and Glaux looked at each other.

“Harry… it’ll take a lot of magic to send you back. The time stream will fight and implement changes of its own. One’s that you may not like,” said Elder.

“I’ll accept the consequences and adapt to the changes that occur. Just send me back!” Harry said, determinedly.

Elder and Glaux glanced back at the monitor before Elder began to construct a new time portal and said, “We’ll have to go in depth on the rules later. To send your memories back we’ll have to separate your soul from your body.”

Harry frowned.

“Well how the hell do you separate a soul from a body?” asked Harry, standing in front of the portal examining it.

“Like this.” replied Glaux, swiftly lifting his hand and firing a red beam at Harry’s back.

Harry, having been caught completely off guard, barely had time to turn around. He staggered slightly as the spell passed through his chest. Blood began to seep out of his wound while a little bit gurgled out of his mouth.

“Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Elder.

Harry’s body crumpled to the ground, above his body was an echo of his form living self. It was sucked into the portal which then promptly collapsed afterwards…

-----

Quirrel and Voldemort were enjoying torturing Harry. This was the longest they had held him under, five minutes non-stop. The Longbottom boy was struggling to break free but to no avail. There was a quick, bright flash of light that came from Harry, forcing the curse to stop. Both Voldemort and Quirrel were surprised by this but didn’t let it show.

“Well, Potter. Have you changed your mind, yet? Or do we have to have some more fun with you?” asked Quirrel.

To the surprise of everyone in the room, Harry shakily replied, “Yes. I’ll join you. Just… stop the pain.”

He was wheezing heavily.

Neville’s mouth practically hit the ground and he stopped struggling. Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding world was agreeing to join Voldemort, the man who had murder Harry’s parents.

‘This can’t be happening’ thought Neville.

“Excellent! I knew you would change your mind. Hand me the Stone,” said Voldemort, triumphantly.

Harry slowly pulled a red stone from his pocket and tossed it wearily at Quirrel. Just before Quirrel caught it, Harry yelled, “SIKE!” before sending a reductor curse at the stone, disintegrating the stone and, coincidentally, blowing Quirrel’s head off and spattering it against the wall. A shade of Voldemort appeared and it snarled at Harry in rage.

“Know this, Tom, I will never join you. You are nothing but a coward and a murderer,” said Harry with his wand pointed at the shade.

“We shall meet again, Harry Potter. Next time I won’t be so generous,” hissed Voldemort.

“Next time we meet, I plan on killing you,” said Harry with no emotion in his voice, but a look of immense hatred in his eyes.

Voldemort floated around the room once before disappearing.

Neville, who had been in shock, realized just how much magic was in the air. Harry’s aura was clearly visible. The air was literally crackling. Neville looked Harry in the eyes and nearly wet himself. He had never seen someone’s eyes look so cold and hard. They were void of all emotions save one; no word could describe that particular emotion. Hatred was way too weak. Neville realized Harry had meant what he had said.

Next time Harry and Voldemort met, one of them wasn’t going to be walking away.

“You alright, Nev?” asked Harry as his aura dimmed and the emotions returned to his emerald eyes.

Neville stared into his eyes. There was something about Harry’s eyes that made him look older.

‘Is it a side effect of the curse?’ Neville wondered.

Harry unbound Neville and helped him up. Neville staggered to the left and winced in pain.

“I…I think I rolled my ankle.” Neville said.

Harry set Neville back down and muttered some incoherent words. While he was doing that, Neville picked up the pieces of his wand. He had broken it when he fell down.

“Gran’s going to kill me. That was my father’s wand.”

Harry looked up and said, “You got a hairline fracture. It’s a clean break. Madam Pomfrey will have you fixed up in a jiffy. I’m going to conjure a cast for it to keep the bone from moving out of alignment.” Harry waved his wand in a complicated manner and muttered a quick string of words. A hard white cast appeared around Neville’s leg from his shin to his foot.

“Hey, Nev,” Harry said, suddenly.

“Yeah, Harry?” replied Neville.

“Don’t tell anyone what happened to me down here,” Harry said.

“WHAT!” Neville yelled. “Harry you were just tortured with an Unforgivable Curse. You’re going to need counseling.”

“No I won’t. I can handle it,” Harry said. Neville glared at Harry. “Ok, how bout if it looks like I can’t handle it, you can tell Dumbledore and he’ll get me counseling.”

“I don’t like it, but it’s the best I’m going to get from you, isn’t it?” Said Neville.

“Yep, pretty much.” Harry replied. “Here, put your arm around my neck. I’ll help you walk. Oh, and by the way. If your Gran gives you any crap about the wand, tell her ‘better a wand then your neck.’ And I’ll be buying you a replacement. Besides, look on the plus side. You get your own wand. The wand chooses the wizard. You’ll get a much better result with a new wand then you ever would with your dad’s.”

Slowly, Harry and Neville hobbled there way out of the chamber back to where the potion’s kit was. They found it was reset and they had to rework through the problem in order to pass through the flames.

The troll was still unconscious in the next room, ‘Thankfully.’ Neville had remarked with a sigh.

Next, was the chess room. They were surprised to find Hermione there with half her pieces demolished. She was obviously struggling. Chess was not a strong element for her.

“Hermione!” Harry called out. Hermione’s head comically snapped around and she squealed with surprise.

“Harry! Neville! Are you two alright?” she asked with a worried expression.

“For the most part we’re relatively unharmed. Neville’s leg is broken and we both have some cuts and bruises. Other than that we’re fine,” Harry said while Neville gave Harry a disappointed look.

“I can’t seem to be able to beat them; every move is blocked,” said Hermione, wearily.

Harry examined the board. He wasn’t actually any good at chest. When ever he played with Ron in this timestream, he would just look inside Ron’s head. Since Ron always though three moves in advance as well as ways to counter his own moves, Ron basically beat himself every time he and Harry played. Harry knew a little chess, and what he did know told him that Hermione had pinned herself down with no chance of winning.

“Screw this!” Harry said before he started sending reductor curses and slicing hexes at the white pieces.

Obviously McGonagall hadn’t anticipated someone trying to blast their way through because the pieces crumpled to the ground.

Harry and Neville hobbled over to Hermione who had run straight for Ron. When Harry and Neville reached her, she leapt up and gave both of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek before sitting back down next to Ron.

“I wish I had though of that,” Hermione mumbled, brushing a stray hair off Ron’s face.

“Wish I had thought of that when we first came through.” grunted Harry. “Then maybe Ron wouldn’t be unconscious and wouldn’t more than likely have a concussion.”

Hermione turned on Harry and Neville and started to ask, “What happened after… Harry! Your nose and ears are bleeding!” she exclaimed.

Harry put his hand up to his ears and then to his nose.

Sure enough, a steady stream of blood was coming out of them. A result of ten minutes under the Cruciatus. He wiped it off and then wandlessly performed a cauterization spell, stopping the bleeding.

“Oh, that…I took a bludgeoning hex to the head.” Harry lied smoothly.

Neville gave Harry another disappointed look but didn’t correct his statement.

“Who was it trying to steal the Stone? Was it Snape?” asked Hermione.

“Why does everyone think it would be Snape?” asked Harry amusedly.

“If it wasn’t Snape, then who was it?” pressed Hermione.

Harry snorted.

“Quirrel,” he and Neville chorused.

“QUIRREL!” screeched Hermione.

“Yep,” Neville replied, simply.

Harry levitated Ron’s unconscious form off the ground as the group began to move on. Back in the room of the flying key’s, neither Neville nor Hermione noticed when Harry wandlessly unlocked the opposite door and they continued on.

When they made it to the Devil’s Snare chamber; Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were being flown down to meet them via Fawkes. Hermione, however, was still going on about Quirrel and didn’t notice the new arrivals.

“I mean really, Quirrel! Snape I can see, but Quirrel!” said Hermione.

“Uh…Hermione,” stammered Neville, nervously.

“Snape is an evil, conniving, greasy haired snake. I can totally see him trying to steal the Stone,” Hermione continued on while Harry snickered.

“Why thank you, Miss Granger. It is always nice to know what my students think of me,” drawled Snape sarcastically.

Hermione paled, then blushed bright red and began to stammer out an apology.

Surprisingly, she didn’t get any points taken away nor was she given a detention.

“So, it was Professor Quirrel trying to steal the Stone. I thought it might have been Voldemort,” said Dumbledore, stroking his beard.

“It was Voldemort, sir. He had partially possessed Quirrel,” Harry explained.

“Where is Professor Quirrel?” asked McGonagall.

“Still in the mirror room with his brain splattered on a wall,” replied Harry nonchalantly. “Old Voldie has fled back to Albania… or where ever the hell he was prior to this year.”

“And the Stone?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry winced and looked down.

“I kinda had to destroy it,” he said sadly.

Hermione gasped and looked at Neville who gave a confirming nodded.

“Why?” asked Dumbledore with a sigh.

“Because if I hadn’t destroyed it when I did, I would have given it to Him and we would have a completely regenerated Lord Voldemort to deal with right now. It was to tempting to keep it. I did the only thing I could think of to keep him from getting it, I destroyed it which ultimately led to Quirrel’s head being blown off. I made a choice, Professor. A choice between what was right… and what was easy,” Harry said grimly.

Dumbledore sighed again.

“Better it destroyed then in the wrong hands. It was a tough decision, but the best one to make at the time. You showed wisdom beyond your years tonight, Harry.”

“I beg to disagree, Headmaster,” said Snape. “All four of you have shown a fool hardiness that can only be displayed by arrogant Gryffindor’s and Potter’s. Therefore I think it is only fair that you each receive… fifty points for your incredible nerve and outstanding stupidity.”

The three conscious Gryffindor’s and Professor McGonagall’s jaws all dropped open.

Harry blinked several times, trying to comprehend what Snape had said before replying, “Only you, Snivellus, could make such a back handed compliment.”

Snape glared at Harry and said, “Don’t make me change my mind, Potter.”

“Alas, it is late. Let us get you four to the Hospital Wing,” said Dumbledore.

“You heard the Headmaster, let’s go you lot,” said McGonagall.

Snape took over levitating Ron’s body for Harry, so Harry could concentrate mainly on helping Neville walk. When they made it to the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore awoke Madam Pomfrey who, once she saw the condition of the children, began fussing over them and berating Dumbledore about the way he ran Hogwarts. Hermione was uninjured but said she wanted to stay with Harry, Neville, and Ron. Madam Pomfrey set Neville’s leg quickly, but told him he would be staying the night. She then turned on Harry.

“Now Mr. Potter, what has happened to you?” she asked and was surprised by his answer.

“Slight concussion, two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, a bloody nose, a small third decree burn, and a moderate first degree burn are my injuries. I’m suffering from a massive headache, server pain mainly brought on by the Black Phoenix Curse, dehydration, and magical exhaustion as well as regular exhaustion.” Harry ticked off quickly. Madam Pomfrey was stunned before she began to do her own test, which proved everything Harry said to be true, and started shoving potions down his throat. She finally gave him a sleeping potion around two in the morning.

After six hours of sleep, Harry woke up to find Ron, Hermione, and Neville awake. Neville was telling Ron and Hermione what had happened when they confronted Quirrel. Ten minutes later, the group lest for breakfast in the Great Hall. As they walked in, people stopped talking and turned to look at them. Hermione was the only one who didn’t have any bandages on. Ron had a cloth wrapped around his head. You could see small red spots all along it. Neville had some on his face. Harry had them on his face, where he took the cutting hex and on the arms where he had had some burns.

The group walked along the table to their usual spot talking quietly to each other. A few minutes later Percy, Fred, and George plopped down beside them.

Percy surprised everyone by asking, “What the bloody hell happened to you lot?”

Ron was about to respond when Dumbledore stood up signaling for quiet. “As you all have realized,” started Dumbledore. “a couple of your class mates have turned up injured. This is because last night they we’re involved in stopping an attempted theft of an extremely powerful magical object. Yesterday, I received a fake letter from the Minister of Magic. A dark wizard wrote the letter to get me to leave the school. Once I had left, he proceeded to try to steal the object which had been placed here for security reasons. Messer’s Longbottom, Potter, Weasley, and Miss Granger realized what was happening and went after this dark wizard. In the process of stopping him, all except Miss Granger were injured. They did succeeded and have been award appropriately. I ask that you not question them as they have already been through a lot.” when Dumbledore sat down and the hall erupted in murmurs.

The rest of the day wasn’t too bad for the Gryffindor Four, as they had officially been dubbed by the rest of the school. That was it wasn’t too bad until they realized that tonight was the night of the ‘Burning’…

-----

And so for the first time since its construction, Hogwarts Castle was completely emptied of all occupants. Harry stood along the black lake’s shoreline alone, staring up at the stars. As he was waiting for the curse to complete its final stage, he heard soft padding on the ground heading towards him. His eyes sought out the source of the sound.

Coming from the forest was a lone centaur. It was heading straight for Harry. Less then ten feet away, it slowed down. When it reached Harry, it stopped then turned to gaze up at the stars.

“Mars is bright tonight,” Harry mentioned.

“Mars is always bright on the night of an eclipse,” replied the centaur.

They stood in silence until the centaur suddenly said, “You do not belong in this time, Harry Potter.”

“Relax, Bane, I have permission,” Harry said.

“You do not belong in this time, Harry Potter.” Bane said again. “You have shifted the course of time-“

“Sparing your entire race from ensured extinction. You know what once was and what will be. I hope this time you centaurs will join us when it can still make a difference,” said Harry.

“We shall see, young one. The hour of darkness approaches. For now, I must take my leave. Until we meet again, Harry Potter,” said Bane before he galloped away.

“Centaurs,” said Harry to himself, shaking his head. “Never try to get a straight answer out of that lot.”

The moon passed into the final stage of the eclipse. Harry felt his body temperature begin to rise. Sweat pored off him and he began to breathe more heavily. He could feel the fire burning inside him. Harry wrapped his arms around himself. Flames began to leap off of his hands. The heat was so intense. He could he the crowd finally acknowledging what was happening. He dropped to one knee, gasping. Trying to get one good breath in and then…fire engulfed his lungs and he let out a scream of pain. His body doubled over as the flames went higher. His screaming subsided, then stopped. The flames continued to burn for a few minutes, then they snuffed themselves out. All that was left of the boy who lived was a large pile of ash.

The crowd was silent… then:

“HA! I KILLED THE BOY-WHO-LIVED!” Malfoy yelled out.

He began to brag about his great conquest with out him nor anyone else realizing that the pile of ash was moving. Slowly, a figured emerged from the ash and dusted himself off.

He looked himself over before saying in a loud voice, “Uh… Ron…could you loan me some pants?”

Everyone jerked around to see Harry standing starkers in the pile of ash.

Hermione squealed and ran over to him knocking him to the ground and giving him a fierce hug while Harry shouted out, “Merlin Hermione! I’m not decent! Ron! I could really use some pants!”

This caused chuckles from the crowd.

Ron walked over, grinning like a maniac and handed Harry the pair of pants Harry had given him early. Harry slipped them on just as the crowd made it to him.

Malfoy was furious.

“Why won’t you die!” he roared.

“I can’t die, Malfoy. I’m the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived. Get used to it,” Harry said before turning to his friends.

Later on in Dumbledore’s office, surrounded by Nicholas Flamel, Professor’s McGonagall and Snape Dumbledore voiced the question the whole school was wondering, “How did you survive, Harry?”

Harry smiled and replied, “’Either the Chosen or the Dark One must die at the hand of the other,’ this wasn’t by his hand. As long as it is not Voldemort trying to kill me, none of us can die. Ironically, Voldemort wants immortality while at the same time wants to kill me. He has immortality so long as me or Hermione don’t kill him or vice versa.”

“Of course. It is so simple. Why didn’t I think of that?” asked Nicholas.

Harry stared at Nicholas before reaching into his pocket and saying, “ I believe I have something of yours.”

Harry handed him a blood red stone, the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Everyone in the room gawked at it.

“Sorry for lying but I had to make sure Voldemort truly believed it was destroyed.”

“How did you manage to trick Tom?” asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling like mad.

“Old Voldie has never seen the Stone, therefore he couldn’t tell the difference between the real deal and a plain red stone. All I did was transfigure some rubble on the ground red. He easily fell for it. Of course he didn't get a good look at it since shortly there after it literally blow up in his face,” explained Harry.

“Color changing is N.E.W.T. Transfiguration!” exclaimed McGonagall.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

“Harry you never cease to amaze me.” said Dumbledore.

“Well, I got to start packing. After all, we leave tomorrow. It was good seeing you again, Mr. Flamel. Take care of the Stone. I didn’t risk my life for nothing, you know,” Harry said chuckling before walking out of the office.

As he left he heard Snape mutter about ‘arrogant Potters’.

‘This time around,' Harry thought, 'I’m going to make his life a living hell. Marauder style.’

Harry strolled off back to Gryffindor Tower. As he walked he smiled.

'This summer is going to be a lot more interesting.’

He brandished his wand, ‘Especially since I removed the Ministry tracking charms on my wand.’

Yep, it was going to be a good summer. All he had to worry about now was… Harry came to a sudden halt and groaned as he said one word, “Dobby.”